


Thought and Memory

by black_tea



Series: Iliana/Ziyal Stories [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Repressed Memories, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_tea/pseuds/black_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things haven't been going so well for Joma Rell lately. Between relationships falling apart, trouble sleeping, and weird dreams about a strange Cardassian woman, Rell has the distinct feeling something is off. But as her dreams keep intruding more and more into her waking life, she's left wondering if she's actually the Bajoran she thinks she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreamscape

**Author's Note:**

> Time to get moving on this and post stuff! I've had the first two and a half chapters roughed out for awhile sitting in a folder on my desktop.

_Jalanda City, Bajor_

The clay felt cool and damp beneath her fingers, spattering her grey hands with splotches of dark brown drying to beige. The form – flowing, harmonious, organic began taking shape. A surge of contentment washed over her. There was peace and satisfaction in this, the act of creation. Somewhere else in the house she heard voices too low and far away to discern the conversation, but she easily recognized the tone and cadence of her father’s speech.

A warm breeze whispered through the open window. She reached for one of her sculpting tools, and… Joma Rell opened her eyes to find herself, for a few panicked moments, overwhelmed with confusion. She blinked in the surrounding darkness, trying desperately to place the room she woke up in, and for a moment even unsure of herself and who she was.

“A dream.” she finally gasped. “Just another dream.” She lay still for several long minutes staring at the familiar outlines of furniture made fuzzy by the predawn gloom. “This is my bedroom in my apartment.” Rell told herself as her heart rate returned to normal. Unfortunately, her sense of dislocation did not dissipate quite so quickly.

Now fully awake and aware, she realized it was her day off.  _All to the good. I doubt I’ll sleep well after that._ Yet another episode. The images, sensations, thoughts remained in vivid detail when she closed her eyes again. They refused to break apart and recede the way dreams often did shortly after waking. She felt a strange pang that she didn’t and didn’t want to understand.

Rell tossed and turned both longing for more sleep and dreading it. She didn’t want to keep dreaming about this woman. She finally fell into an uneasy doze, unrestful but at least dreamless.

 * * *

Rell sipped her mug of deka tea and dutifully recorded her latest dream in as much detail as possible. Not a hard task considering she could still remember every detail. It seemed nearly every night brought at least one dream of the strange Cardassian woman whose identity, for reasons unknown to her waking mind, her subconscious took on. Few of the dreams could be deemed bad--most were in fact ridiculously mundane. Sculpting, walking through a market, reading a book, preparing a meal, applying blue cosmetic to her chufa. _Chufa? Where did_ that _come from?_

At first she had considered her nighttime adventures odd, but nothing to worry about. The subconscious could and did come up with strange things. Yet she never liked them. They created an unease, a discomfort way down deep she would rather have done without. But it wasn’t until she began checking the names of people, places, and words that a Bajoran shouldn’t have known that she became alarmed. _You might have heard these things in passing, and unconsciously remembered. You know you can dredge up all kinds of weird stuff._ She tapped herself on the forehead with a disgruntled sigh.

“But some of this is so obscure.” she muttered as she glanced over previous entries. “And it’s all so vivid.” Her glance fell on the small bottle sitting on the counter – medicine to help her sleep. She made a face and took another sip of tea. The little innocuous looking pills filled her with distaste. She was afraid to take them. Afraid that she would fall asleep soundly enough to be trapped in the dream woman’s body for even longer, unable to wake till morning.

Was this to be her penance then? To live out her nights as a Cardassian? As a resistance fighter she had seen and participated in a great deal of violence and ugliness. _It had to be done. There was no other way._ Necessary actions certainly, but things to be proud of? No. Perhaps it was some kinder part of her brain that wanted her to recognize the better qualities in her enemies and move on from the past. _Perhaps it was the Prophets themselves?_ She was too honest to lie and say she forgave easily. There were plenty of bad feelings left over from her life on an occupied Bajor. Though lately, all she seemed to feel was…

_Numb_. _No anger, no forgiveness, just nothing. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. I just don’t have the energy to get worked up about the past right now. Or I’m losing my mind. One or the other._ She thought ruefully.

“Prophets!” She exclaimed, nearly knocking over her half full mug of rapidly cooling tea. “I was supposed to meet Dev ten minutes ago!” She quickly combed her fingers through her shoulder length brown hair, pulled on her shoes, and ran out into the street, her heart sinking within her. This was the second time she had accidentally stood him up.

“What is wrong with me?” However, the answer was not forthcoming.

 * * *

She caught site of Dev as soon as she stepped into the restaurant, her legs trembling from running and out of breath. He sat towards the back turned away from the door, but she could recognize his broad shoulders and blond curls anywhere. Her stomach twinged with guilt as she slowly wove around the other breakfast customers till she was standing beside him.

“Dev, I’m so sorry, I didn’t sleep well and--”

The man turned to face her, his expression difficult to read. “So you finally decided to show up. I guess that’s an improvement over last time.”

Rell winced. “I’m so so sorry. I ran all the way down here.” Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out the chair and sank down on to it. She was facing him now, but she found it difficult to meet Dev’s eyes.

He sighed. “I don’t know what to do about this, us. I care for you, and I know those feelings could grow further. But I don’t get the feeling that you’re as interested in this relationship as I am.”

“But--”

He shook his head to cut her off. “No, this needs to be said. You’re constantly rescheduling our dates and missing others. When we are together, half the time it feels like you’re someplace else. I don’t want to start having serious feelings for you and then get hurt, because you can’t be bothered.”

“It’s not like that. I _do_ care, really. Life is just…difficult right now.” she sighed.

He nodded. “Life is like that sometimes. Maybe now isn’t the right time for you to be in a relationship. Perhaps you need to take care of, whatever it is you need to take care of first.”

Rell looked away, finding his compassion more difficult to face than his anger. The truth was, she really did like Dev. She liked him a lot. He was the sort of man she could see herself with for the long haul, and she was tired of relationships that fizzled out after a few months. She inwardly cursed herself for screwing this up.

“Will you at least give me another chance? Let me make it up to you?” she asked hopefully.

He sat quietly for a moment, considering. “I’ve heard that one too many times before. Look, I’ll tell you what,” he began, his expression softening somewhat. “Do what you need to do to pull yourself together, then call me. I can’t promise I’ll still be available, but if I am, I’ll consider giving us another try. You’re a good person, Rell. I know you are. But I need more stability than this.”

She nodded miserably, not really blaming him. “I know I haven’t been exactly fair to you lately.” She wanted to say more, but didn’t trust herself to speak. Dev leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead.

“Take care of yourself, ok?” He said, and with that stood up and walked out.

Rell sat for a few moments with her elbows resting on the table and her hands over her face trying to calm her breathing. _I fucked up, again. Why do I keep doing this? Every time I meet someone who I could really get close to, I fuck it up._

Finally she pulled herself to her feet, not wanting to take up a table when she wouldn’t be eating there. She lost her appetite. With nothing else to do, and nowhere to go, she turned towards home.

 * * *

“Rell, how are you?” Her sister’s cheerful face greeted her on the screen. “Oh, you don’t look so good? Are you ok, sleeping alright?”

Rell sighed and scrubbed her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ok or not. No I’m not sleeping well, and… I’m no longer seeing Dev.” Her voice trailed off to a near whisper. She both needed someone to talk to, yet dreaded having to rehash her disastrous day.

“What! Dev? I thought things were great between you two. What happened?”

Her sister’s obvious disappointment sent guilt bubbling back up to the surface. She had been married for two years now, and she and her husband were trying for a baby. Her anxiety that her sister should know the same happiness did not help Rell’s nerves.

“He wants more commitment and doesn’t think I’m capable of being serious right now.” Rell explained after a pause to gather her thoughts.

Her sister looked at her carefully. “Are you afraid of commitment? I thought you wanted something more serious.”

Rell shrugged. “Yes, I do, but he didn’t believe me. I’ve not had it real together lately, and it spooked him, I guess.” _And he was right to get out. I’m not fit to be with right now._ She let that thought remain unspoken.

“How did the doctor’s appointment go? Did he give you anything to help you sleep?”

The rapid change of subject didn’t surprise Rell. Kia, incredibly quick at figuring things out, was merely gathering information and putting it all together. “Yes, but…”

“But what? You need to sleep. You look terrible.” Kia’s voice took on a stern note.

_Oh no, she’s going into mother mode_. Rell inwardly groaned. With their parents dead, Kia was the only close family Rell had, and Kia took her role seriously. “I know, I know, but it’s not that I can’t get to sleep. It’s these damned dreams! How is a pill supposed to stop a dream?”

“You’ll sleep more soundly and won’t wake up as often.” Kia patiently pointed out.

Rell shook her head. “But I want to get rid of the dreams! I don’t want to be plagued with them all night and not be able to wake up.”

“Are they really that bad? Maybe you should speak to a counselor.”

“Yes, no, they aren’t nightmares, if that’s what you mean, but do you have any idea what it’s like to go to sleep every night and dream you’re some spoonhead. They’re so vivid too!” Rell absently tangled her hand in her hair out of frustration, knowing what the next question would be and how stupid her answer was going to sound.

“Ok, what did your Cardie alter-ego do last night? Shoot someone? Torture prisoners?” Kia asked.

“No… she, I was sculpting.” She replied in a small voice.

“Sculpting.”

“Yes, out of clay – you have no idea how real it was, I could feel the clay, smell it even.” Rell insisted, wishing her sister would take this more seriously.

Kia attempted to keep a straight face, but couldn’t quite keep the smile off. “That sounds…absolutely terrible. Sculpting.”

“Why can’t anybody see how disturbing this is!”

Kia snorted, took a deep breath, and silenced the laughter that was clearly fighting to come out. “Ok, let’s look at this calmly. You lived through the occupation, spent years fighting them. The fact that you dream about Cardassians isn’t really surprising. Just be glad it’s art projects. Your mind is probably just mixing things together.”

“But I dream this stuff all the time. Once I was at some kind of reception, another time shopping. Once I was babysitting a friend’s child. It’s weird!”

The stern look returned to Kia’s angular face. “Weird, yes, but it shouldn’t be ruining your sleep like this. I think you need to talk to someone. You did go through a war, remember? That will do a number on anyone. You’ve been having a harder and harder time keeping relationships together, you aren’t sleeping well, having vivid dreams--”

“So you _do_ think they’re serious.” Rell demanded.

“In so much that they’re most likely a symptom of something larger that you need to have seen to.” came the even reply. “I don’t think they sound like a big deal, but you obviously feel that they are, so it needs to be addressed.”

Rell made a face, but knew it wasn’t worth arguing about further. She also knew that her sister was probably right. The thought of spilling all this out to a stranger bothered her, though. She knew how stupid it all sounded, and she wasn’t able to convey what they really felt like and how unsettling the experience was.

Kia glanced over across the room. “I’m sorry, I need to go. But if you have any problems, you’d better call me, ok?”

“Sure.” Rell’s response was less than enthusiastic.

“I mean it. Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

 * * *

 “So that’s been the extent of my week.” Rell frowned as she poured another glass of spring wine before offering the bottle to her friend.

“Sounds awful. Think of it this way,” Sela smiled. “Maybe you’re just getting all the bad stuff out of the way all at once. You’re due for something good to happen.” She pushed a lock of long dark hair away from her face. Rell had always envied her long waves. When she let her hair grow out all she ever ended up with was frizz.

“I hope you’re right.” Rell sighed. “This is becoming tiring in more ways than one.”

“How many dreams have you had now?”

She took a sip of wine and paused in thought. “I’d have to check my journal. I write them all down. It started about three, four months ago. At first there were one or two a week, but over the past month I started having them four or five nights a week, and I’ve had them literally every night this week. Every single night. The most frustrating part is that I can’t make people understand how awful it is, because they aren’t violent or scary. But I’m left feeling so strange afterwards. There must be something wrong with me.”

Sela laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “They don’t sound like nightmares, but I can see how anything that reoccurs that often would be unsettling. It sounds like something is trying to tell you something. Either it’s your subconscious trying to get you to do or understand something, or perhaps it’s the Prophets themselves.”

“Isn’t that a little dramatic?” Rell asked, even though she had sometimes wondered the same thing.

“I don’t see why not. You’re having them for some reason, and I know you’re not actually crazy, or at least not in this way. But either way, I bet once you figure out what they’re about and do whatever it is you’re supposed to do, they’ll stop.”

Rell frowned again. “I don’t see the meaning behind dreaming of a random female Cardassian.”

“That might just be your mind’s way of coming up with a symbol you’d understand.” Sela suggested. “It might not matter who she is, but what she represents to you personally.”

“Hmmm… that makes some sort of sense I suppose. If I have to keep having them, I hope I get another art dream. Those are sort of pleasant, or would be if I didn’t have the damned things all the time. Thanks for listening to all this. You’re much easier to talk to about this kind of thing than my sister.”

“What are friend’s for?”

 * * *

Iliana carefully studied the file she had been given. The image that had been included showed a young Bajoran woman with dark hair and eyes. _Joma Rell_. She stared into those eyes as if able to ascertain something of the woman from them. _Not that it matters, I suppose. I will_ be _her soon._ A moment of trepidation caught her up, but she easily pushed it aside. This was something she needed to do, had to do. Cardassia needed her, and this was something she could give her home, her people. The only thing that really gave her pause was her father. She turned her attention back to the file in order to ignore the guilt.

Joma Rell was a member of a fairly successful resistance cell who had the misfortune of being captured during a raid. Both parents deceased, had one sister, no other siblings. She seemed to have a talent for code breaking. Iliana looked up from the file to quietly regard the man that sat across from her. He was deceptively average looking and of indeterminate age. She doubted she would ever remember him if she happened to pass him on the street.

“We will begin the surgical procedure tomorrow, then you will be inserted into the cell. The information you’ll be gathering will be instrumental in bringing it down.”

She nodded, glad to be part of the anti-terrorism effort on Bajor. Glad to be able to do _something_ worthwhile.

Rell woke up in a panic. During the dream all she had felt was a mild anxiety, but awake and back in her own body the subject was terrifying. _Why would I dream something like that?_ She frantically wondered. _What’s wrong with me? Something’s not right, I_ know _it._ Only she had no idea who to turn to, who to tell. This was beyond pottery or shopping. This wasn’t some innocent, random slice of life. She felt her face, half expecting to find ridges and scales instead of her own skin, but no, her face was smooth, scaleless with little ridges on the bridge of her nose.

There was no getting back to sleep after that, so rather than lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she got up, wrapped herself in a warm robe and moved to the sofa in the other room. “Is something like that even possible?” Rell thought back and felt that she had heard rumors to that effect, though she had no idea how commonplace the practice was, or how it was carried out.

“Did I dream that because my other dreams were causing anxiety? That was just some kind of weird anxiety dream?” That would undoubtedly be her sister’s explanation. She sat curled up trying to rationalize away her fear. “Maybe I could try and find out if there was such a person as Iliana. If there isn’t, then my mind is clearly just making things up. How would I even find out? That would be classified information. No. That isn’t going to work either.” She frowned, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if reminding herself what she was. “I need to calm down, get some sleep, and deal with this when I’m capable of thinking straight. It really could just be an anxiety dream… maybe it’s actually more normal. It makes more sense to dream about espionage and war than sculpting.” That answer was at least somewhat satisfying.

With that she fell back into bed and managed to sleep till morning.

 


	2. Face In the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rell's dreams take an unsettling turn, nor are they restricting themselves to her sleeping hours. Action must be taken, but Rell fears she isn't going to like the answers she finds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking the position that the practice of disguising Cardassians as Bajoran resistance members wasn't well known on Bajor. Otherwise a quick tricorder reading would be enough to root out spies making the practice incredibly ineffective.

 

The grey clouds that had been hanging over the city for most of the past week had finally cleared away leaving a lovely sunny day. Rell chose to take the change in weather as a good omen. Despite sleeping soundly the rest of the night, she still felt slightly fuzzy headed. _Unreal. Everything seems sort of unreal_. She shook her head as if to clear it. She gazed out the window of the public transport watching, but not really seeing, buildings and people flash by. Though she could remember all the details if she thought about it, the emotional effect of the dream was dampened by the sunny weather and busy work day.

She got off before her usual stop to visit a local market that had reliably good produce. Replicated food was fine for most days, but every so often she craved something real. She walked in amongst the stalls enjoying the colors and textures of the fruit and vegetables, and smiled at the sight of a stall selling flowers, their pretty faces turned up to catch the sun.

She began walking more purposefully towards a fruit seller when a wave of déjà vu washed over her. Only, rather than feeling like she had been there before, she felt like she had been somewhere similar. The image came in a sudden rush, walking through a market, only the foodstuff was unfamiliar, the sun hot, the colors yellows and browns rather than greens and blues. Without realizing she had done it, Rell stopped walking and stood shaking trying to blink away the conflicting visions. Just as suddenly as it had come, the vision left, and she was standing once again in a Bajoran marketplace. However, the sense of dislocation remained, stronger than it had been after her recent dreams.

Whatever had happened felt more like a memory than a dream, which only added to Rell’s confusion. She knew she had never been to such a place in real life. She had never even been out of the Bajoran system. She suddenly didn’t care about the fruit anymore. She just wanted to go home. Someone stopped to ask if she was all right, but Rell only nodded abstractedly before walking as quickly as her shaky legs could carry her in the direction of her apartment.

_Oh Prophets, I’m going crazy. I’m losing my mind. It’s the trauma from fighting caught up with me at last._ She thought numbly as she unlocked her door and gratefully stumbled inside. She sat down on the sofa and buried her head in her hands. _It’s not fair, now I’m dreaming while I’m awake…why didn’t that feel like a dream. I was never there, never there, never there… Maybe I should see if I can stay with Kia for a while…company and a change of scene. Of course if I just take off I’ll lose my job, then where will I be?_

She knew she should call someone – Kia or Sela or even Dev. As disappointed as Dev had been with her, Rell knew that if she were ever in real trouble, Dev would come. Yet something stopped her, some horrible feeling that when she figured all this out, she wasn’t going to like the answer. _Besides, I’m no good at trying to explain how all this_ feels _. They’ll all say the same things they’ve been saying._

_Tea, a cup of tea will help calm me down._ She stood and walked to the kitchen, and was stymied for a moment, unable to place where she kept the mugs. _No, no, they’re in the left cabinet, stupid._ She slowly slid to the tile floor as another wave of disorientation hit, and suddenly her kitchen, the kitchen she had used every day for the past year and a half didn’t seem like her kitchen at all. It was all wrong, everything out of place. Rell squeezed her eyes shut tight, afraid of what she might see if she opened them.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the tile floor started to feel uncomfortably hard on her backside, and her shoulders were cramping from sitting hunched up. She slowly opened here eyes. The sun was going down, the room dimmer than before, but everything seemed normal. So normal that she almost felt silly for sitting balled up on the floor quaking in fear. Almost. She carefully stretched out her legs and shook the tension from her arms before hauling herself to her feet. Rell cautiously looked around, wandering into the living room and bedroom as well half fearing a repeat of the kitchen incident. Nothing happened. Everything seemed normal and familiar from the furniture, to the holo of her and her sister, to the trinkets she had collected.

She turned on several lamps to ward off the impending darkness. She realized she was hungry, but was loath to return to the scene of the latest attack. Squaring her shoulders she forced herself to enter the cheery little room. Once a few minutes passed and brought no new horrors, Rell went about fixing a meal. The rest of the evening was blessedly uneventful.

 * * *

She had stayed up late reading and watching vids in hopes of making herself so sleepy she would cease being afraid of actually going to bed. She ended up dozing off on the sofa, and though she dreamed long and often, they weren’t as vivid. Rather than a clear picture of a particular event, she was given a mishmash of seemingly random snippets. But if the dreams themselves weren’t as off putting, the effect upon waking seemed so much worse.

When Rell opened her eyes, she lay for several long moments thinking she was someone else. It wasn’t until she looked around and recognized her surroundings that reason began trickling back. She sat up still wrapped in an old blanket fighting waves of what could only be described as homesickness and longing. Still somewhat sleep addled, she got up went into the bathroom and quickly turned her head away before looking in the mirror. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to slowly raise her eyes to the reflective surface. Though it would’ve been difficult to explain to Kia or Sela, she honestly didn’t know who she was going to see when she looked in the mirror.

She more than half expected to see this Iliana person staring back at her, but the image that greeted her was that of her familiar Bajoran face – pretty, but not conventionally beautiful, her hair still sleep mussed and the corners of her brown eyes crusty. She rubbed away the grit and stared at herself long and hard, looking for the Cardassian woman’s face in her own. She absently traced a fingertip around where the eye ridges would be before catching herself and quickly dropping her hand.

_If I lose all sense of who I am…that is the way to madness._ She turned away from the mirror, thinking. Suddenly an idea struck her. It was more than a little uncomfortable since that particular plan would lend a great deal more importance to her bizarre nighttime rambles than she felt she should. _But it’s not just at night anymore._ She reminded herself, remembering the episodes at the market and in her kitchen. _And the fact that I was staring in the damned mirror how long, trying to decide who I am?_ She realized there was a way _that_ at least could be settled. Sela’s brother worked as a nurse in the local health clinic. She could easily enough disprove the theory that she was anything other than Bajoran. _How am I going to explain this? He’s going to think I’ve lost my mind._ _This is silly. I should think this is silly._ Despite that thought, she quickly readied herself for the day and left her apartment with every intention of paying a visit to her friend’s brother.

It appeared that the rain really had moved on. The morning was clear and cheerful, completely putting it at odds with Rell’s mood. Several times during her journey she began to become overwhelmed with memory like images and feelings she couldn’t place. Determined not to fall apart, especially in public, she pushed it all away and focused on her breathing.

She arrived just as the clinic was opening and quickly asked for Jos. Sela’s brother was tall and skinny with a shock of unruly dark hair and a permanently surprised expression. “Rell, what can I do for you? Are you ok?” He looked at her closely, clearly sensing that something was off.

She didn’t know Jos as well. Their circles of friends weren’t the same. They saw each other mostly at birthday and holiday parties where they made small talk and left it at that. She wasn’t sure if that should make it easier or harder. “Jos, I need you to do me a favor. It’s going to sound really strange, and once the test comes out the way I _know_ rationally it will, I’ll explain it and you’ll think I’m incredibly silly.”

“Okay…” He regarded her quizzically. “What is it you want me to do? What test?”

Rell suddenly flushed, wondering if he thought it was for some sort of embarrassing sexually transmitted disease. “A DNA scan.”

“A…DNA scan? That was not what I was expecting. Why?”

_He was definitely thinking sexually transmitted disease or pregnancy._ She bit back a sudden stab of fear as her bravado suddenly began to slip. Even though she told Jos she knew what the results would be, deep down she wasn’t so sure. _Shut up, Rell. That’s insane. This whole thing is insane._

“Uh, to prove something. Please? I know it’s weird, but I really need you to do this. I don’t want to ask a stranger.”

He was silent for a long moment before shrugging his narrow shoulders. “Alright, I don’t see the harm in it.” He picked up a tricorder and began fiddling with the settings.

Rell’s stomach lurched as he scanned her with the hand held device. He glanced down at it, and then stopped and looked harder. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right. And this is a new one too.”

Rell felt herself grow cold from her extremities inwards as every muscle tensed. “Wha…what does it s-say?” she stammered.

He looked up at her, surprised to see the terror in her face. His gaze then fell back down to the tricorder. “It says… that you have no Bajoran DNA markers. You aren’t Bajoran, but that’s ridiculous.” He turned the tricorder on himself and checked the results. “Hmmm…it worked ok for me. Maybe it was just a fluke. We’ll try again.”

Rell felt rooted to the spot, cold and shaking. She knew the answer. It would be so easy to pin it on faulty tricorder readings, but she knew in a way so down deep. Memories fought their way to the surface, but she ruthlessly pushed them back down. There would be time for that later.

“This is really strange. It’s still saying the same thing. Congratulations, Rell, it looks like you’ve been a Cardassian all along and never knew it.” he joked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disgust at the tricorder and laughter at what he perceived as ridiculous results.

Rell took one step back and then another. She babbled something about having to go somewhere, turned and ran out of the building. “Rell, wait! What’s going on!” Jos called after her, but she didn’t even register his voice. She was already past due at work, but she no longer cared. She only wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone where she could stop and think and _remember_ … _I need to try and remember…_ Suddenly the idea that Rell was the dream and Iliana real didn’t seem so crazy. It was rather like a puzzle, only Rell/Iliana didn’t have all the pieces. _But they’re there-- they’re in my head. I just have to dig them out._

The clinic lay far behind by the time Rell stopped, out of breath. She debated returning to her apartment. She needed to be able to think in peace, to face whatever this was once and for all. Yet, she was concerned that Jos might tell Sela what had happened and then she’d end up with a hoard of well meaning people beating down her door. Still, there was nothing to be done about it. Looking up at the sun, she reminded herself that it was still fairly early in the morning, and her friends would be otherwise occupied for hours yet. She could count on some privacy until early evening at least.

 * * *

She sat on her bed running through breathing exercises. Not too long after the end of the Occupation, Rell had begun suffering through some fairly severe anxiety – aftermath of years of fighting. Consequently she had been taught a number of relaxation techniques. She understood now that she had to stop running away from what was happening to her. Rather, she needed to slow down and face the strange visions, dreams… _memories_? She still had difficulty considering them memories, that she wasn’t who she thought she was even as the truth was becoming apparent. _Am I losing or gaining myself? Will ‘Rell’ die? Who is Iliana really?_

Taking a deep breath, she lay down on her bed and closed her eyes, mentally replaying the images of the Cardassian woman and her world. She stayed with the safe tame ones; the activities that reminded Rell that people where people no matter where they were from. She slowly willed her body to relax beginning with her feet and moving up to her neck, and she let the memories come, and there was no doubt that’s what they were – a river of memories that had been near to bursting it’s banks.

Iliana wasn’t sure how long she had been laying curled up, but the light coming through the window was the mellow gold of late afternoon. Her memory was still patchy, but she no longer had any doubt as to who she was. She closed her eyes and wished Rell a sad good bye. The Bajoran woman was gone, had been gone really for years. She sat considering what to do.

She now remembered the surgeon putting her under, and then…nothing but memories of her life as Rell, Rell’s memories, but her time as Rell began to feel more like dreams while Iliana was her reality. Oh, she could remember everything she had done while living as a Bajoran, but that life seemed a step removed, like watching a character in a vid rather than actually being that person. The sudden flip flop between dream and reality left her feeling more than a little disconcerted, but it was an improvement over feeling like two people trying to inhabit the same body. Unfortunately, her regained memory left her with the problem of being a Cardassian spy on Bajor. Granted, the Occupation was over, and the information Iliana had given up so much to obtain no longer had any use. But it would take more than a few years and a peace treaty to make Iliana feel anything other than trapped in enemy territory.

_I need to get off Bajor._ She thought, trying to keep her desperation at bay. She could go through the government and perhaps have herself returned to Cardassia, but _would they give me back just like that?_ Another uncomfortable thought followed. _What is waiting for me at home?_ _No, I need to get off Bajor, and then find more information. Terok Nor, or Deep Space Nine. The space station. The Federation is a more neutral party. I can take a shuttle there; maybe find someone who can help me._

Having something to act on helped settle her nerves, allowed her to push back the conflicted feelings and uncomfortable memories. There would be a time to deal with what had happened, but it wasn’t now. _If I met up with one of Rell’s friends now, they would know something’s wrong. Knowing I am not her, I don’t think I can disguise myself so well. I wonder if he told Sela about the incident with the tricorder. It can’t be helped I suppose._ She stood up and brushed herself off. She had a shuttle to catch.

 


	3. On the Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iliana leaves Bajor and begins attempting to clean up the mess she's found herself in.

Iliana carried little with her – just a duffle bag with a few changes of clothes and what money she had. Before leaving the apartment she penned a quick note, unable to quite quell a surge of guilt. She didn’t like continuing the deception longer than need be, but now wasn’t the time to deal with Rell’s loved ones. The note had simply read ‘I will be gone for awhile, I’ll explain as soon as I can.’

She glanced around the shuttle, old habits coming back. Iliana had always taken careful note of what was around her. Two vedeks sat towards the back. There was what appeared to be a businessman, his clothing marking him as someone successful in his trade, a Human in civilian clothes (Iliana suspected her of being Starfleet on shore leave), and a man with two young children.

She turned her head back to the front. _One thing at a time. Just take it one step at a time. Number one, get off Bajor. That at least is done. Once on the station…_ She paused in thought unsure of who she should seek out. Medical? The fact that she was a Cardassian wearing a Bajoran form was certainly a problem for surgeons to figure out. The Bajoran Liaison, perhaps? But she shied away from that. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what exactly her status was given the circumstances and no idea as to how she would be received.

She wove her way through the people at the docking bay waiting to meet loved ones still indecisive. However, upon seeing the Starfleet and Bajoran militia uniforms, Iliana decided the medical staff might be the safest choice. Doctors healed the sick and injured and seemed to be less caught up in politics. If nothing else, they could direct her where to go, and she really did need to shed Rell’s appearance. She asked directions from a Bajoran woman, reminding herself that the woman wouldn’t know her as anything but a fellow Bajoran.

She paused at the entrance to the infirmary, her bag suddenly feeling heavy on her shoulder. Would they think her crazy? An enemy? She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. The Iliana that she had been upon joining the Order and accepting the undercover assignment had been a confident, mentally tough individual. She didn’t feel like that now. Now she only felt uncertain and more than a little frightened, weighed down by the passage of years lived as someone else. She knew who she was now, yes, but the rest wasn’t going to be that simple. _Still, I am strong enough to do this._ She thought, adjusting her bag across her shoulders and walking towards the nearest medic.

“Excuse me, could I speak to the physician in charge?” She inquired politely.

“And what’s the trouble?” the medic, a middle aged Bajoran woman, replied with a reassuring smile. “Perhaps I can help you?”

Iliana shook her head. “I’m afraid not, and it’s…important, please?”

She must have interjected enough pleading into her response, because the medic motioned for her to wait while she went in search of the doctor. Iliana tugged nervously at her shirtsleeves in an attempt to appear less rumpled, but she didn’t have long to wait. The medic quickly returned with a tall, slim young man in a Starfleet uniform.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Bashir.” He introduced himself. “What can I help you with, miss?”

“Iliana, Iliana Ghemor. I need to speak to you in private, please. It’s important, and I don’t know where else to go.”

The Human looked for a moment as if he were trying to remember something. “Certainly, we’ll use my office.” She followed him both anxious and a little relieved that at least she was taking a step to fix the mess she had found herself in.

She was just about to step through the office door, when he suddenly turned towards her. “You said, Iliana Ghemor, right?”

She nodded, suddenly nervous again. The Human’s brown eyes widened slightly before he turned to his desk in search of something. That something soon turned out to be a tricorder hidden amongst the PADDs. Iliana stood stock still as the young man took her readings.

“I’m not what I look like.” she said, feeling like it might be better to give him some kind of warning, but he didn’t seem surprised.

“I should say not.” Bashir replied. “Under the cosmetic surgery, you are a very healthy Cardassian woman.” He gestured to a chair by the wall, and she scooted it closer to his desk and sat down.

“That is really amazing, of course I know that the Cardassians have the technology. Others do too, but to be able to go from such a physically different species…” he trailed off as if realizing he had let his enthusiasm get the better of him.

“I’m sorry, it seems that…you know me somehow?”

“I know of you. One of our senior staff members knows your father. He’s been looking for you, in fact.” Bashir explained. “Your name sounded familiar, and not at all Bajoran, but it took me a minute to remember. We don’t usually end up with patients such as yourself. Lately it’s been a Bajoran respiratory bug.” He smiled, the open expression putting Iliana at ease.

She relaxed her shoulders. “That makes this easier then. I was afraid I’d have to convince you that I wasn’t Bajoran and wasn’t crazy, or that I’d end up being arrested as a spy, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

He laughed. “No, the Occupation is over. There’s no sense in locking you up for living as a Bajoran for years. How exactly did you regain your memories?”

“It started several months ago as dreams. Several nights a week I would have dreams where I was a Cardassian woman – myself as I am now of course. At the time I was living as a Bajoran named Joma Rell. I thought it odd, but nothing more. Then they became more frequent, and I admit they disturbed me even though the dreams themselves weren’t bad. Then this past week I began having episodes while I was awake. I realize now I was just remembering things, but at the time I had no idea where they were coming from. I was beginning to think I was losing my mind. Then I had a dream about the assignment that had me living as Rell.” Iliana took a deep breath. “At some point, there was some part of me that was beginning to wonder so I went to the local health clinic – one of Rell’s friend’s brothers was a nurse there – and asked for a DNA scan.”

“Once I stopped fighting it, my memory came back for the most part. There are still holes, but I know who I am and what I was doing on Bajor. I remember bits about my family and past. I still have all of Rell’s memories too, but now they feel like the dream – like something from a vid. It’s very strange. I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t stay on Bajor as Rell, so I came here. I thought the Federation would be neutral territory.”

“And I take it you would like your face back.” Bashir supplied.

She nodded, touching her smooth scaleless skin. “Yes, it’s not right to keep up the deception anymore. I also don’t know what’s waiting for me back home…”

“Major Kira can help put you in touch with your father.” He reassured her. “In the mean time we can try and put you back the way that you were. I’m not going to lie. It won’t be easy. There are a lot of physical differences between the two species. It’s doable, but it will take some time and work.”

She nodded, grateful. “I expected that. Rell has a sister and friends who need to know what really happened to her.” She sighed, the elation at possibly getting her old appearance back suddenly sinking.

The Human’s expression was sympathetic. “Let’s take one thing at a time. We’ll get you settled in here, and I’ll start figuring out the best way to go about your surgery. I’ll have Major Kira come by, and she can help you with your father and possibly the situation with Rell’s loved ones. First things first, I want to take some more readings and find out just how complicated your initial surgery was.”

 * * *

“So they changed you to look like me, and meanwhile, I was living as a Bajoran. I don’t believe anyone could’ve even written this.” Iliana said. A half-hour before, she answered the door of her temporary quarters to find a woman in a Bajoran militia uniform. For a fleeting moment she feared Doctor Bashir was wrong, and they were in fact, going to arrest her. But it turned out to be the Major Kira Bashir had referred to.

Now they sat in the replimat eating a late dinner. “You do look remarkably like the way I used to look – minus the scales and ridges of course.”

“I know your father will be very relieved. He’s been looking for you for years.” the red haired woman replied.

Iliana sat forward. “When did you see him last, how was he?”

“I haven’t seen him since the incident. I know he’s considered a dissident and cannot return to Cardassia.” Kira explained.

“But he’s all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, as far as I know. I’ll get word to him as soon as I can.” She smiled. “I’m glad something good is coming out of this.”

Iliana set down her spoon with a sigh. “Not entirely. Rell has family and friends that don’t know what happened to her. I left a note that explained nothing and came here. I didn’t know how to face them, or if they’d even believe me. Kia, Rell’s sister, was already worried about her mental state.”

Kira nodded, her expression sober. “Give me her name and location, I’ll make sure she knows.”

“If you’re going to talk to her, I should be there. This is my fault; I’d be a coward to leave it entirely up to someone else. However, if you’re there she’ll at least believe me.” She paused, and then added, “as far as Kia is concerned, Rell was slowly falling apart. Her initial reaction will be to assume this is all a delusion.”

“In this case you have medical evidence on your side. It’s amazing you weren’t injured or seriously ill, or you would’ve been found out years ago.”

Iliana nodded. “That thought has occurred to me on more than once occasion. That would’ve been…a terrible way for everyone to find out. This way at least one of us knows who I am and what happened.”

Kira offered her a smile, but she was clearly wrestling with her own emotions. _This has got to be strange and not very pleasant for her._ She reflected. _Here I am a Cardassian spy, and she was a resistance fighter, and what’s worse is the pain I’m about to put Rell’s family and friends through. Still, she’s handling this remarkably well. Could I do the same if I were in her shoes?_ Iliana had no answer to that and turned back to her meal, which seemed less appetizing than before.

 

* * *

“My dear, what is it you’re doing exactly?” Garak asked. Julian was hovering over him prodding at his neck ridges. Normally this behavior would fall under the category of foreplay, but Julian clearly didn’t have his mind on sex.

“Garak, I have a dilemma.” He replied as if that sentence explained everything.

“My ridges are causing a dilemma, or …?”

“No, well, it’s not _my_ dilemma. I have a young Cardassian woman who is stuck looking like a Bajoran, and now I need to change her back. Do you have any idea how complicated your physiology is? I mean your neck ridges alone—the underlying structure might appear simple enough, but the nerves--”

“Julian,” Garak interrupted before the Human could pick up any more steam. “I am well aware of my neck ridges and their functions. I’ve had them my entire life. You said you have a Cardassian woman disguised as a Bajoran?” It was just like his mate to focus on one thing with laser precision and completely miss that which was most important. He turned and quickly captured the Human’s hands. “I think you ought to sit down and explain. Your day was clearly more interesting than mine.”

Julian seated himself next to Garak on the sofa and the flood of words began again. The Cardassian deftly steered the young man away from medical terminology and the details of various procedures and was able to catch the gist of Iliana’s story.

“Fascinating indeed.” He remarked when Julian ran out of pertinent facts.

“Just how many operatives are still down there thinking they’re Bajoran?” He asked.

Garak shrugged. “I couldn’t say, dear. Things got rather chaotic towards the end, and unfortunately, some people as you would say, fell through the cracks.”

“The Cardassian government just _lost_ them?” the Human’s expression was clearly disapproving.

Garak regarded him with a steady gaze. “They were part of the Obsidian order, I sincerely doubt the government knew any of the specifics. Their intelligence gathering was rather lackluster.” He sniffed. “But yes, it’s nearly impossible to track them down now, and there’s always the possibility that some were killed in the fighting.”

“I’m sure I can put her back together again…the scales won’t be a problem, her underlying DNA is the same, it’s just a matter of triggering the right sequence, combined with dermal regeneratives…and the look of the ridges, but to make everything function like it should. Hmmm…perhaps growing new tissue and implanting it…”

Julian got a look in his eye that warned Garak he was about to be attacked and prodded again. He quickly grabbed the slender brown hands. “Poking me isn’t going to help you. You known exactly what I look like anyway.” He pointed out.

“But I could do some scans--”

Garak wrestled with him until he managed to pin the slender body against the sofa. “You can do so if you like.” His expression was dubious. Garak was a man of many talents and had collected a great deal of knowledge. However, he was not a medical professional, and much of Julian’s babbling had admittedly gone over his head.

“Though you are male.” He went on.

“Oh really? How nice of you to notice.” Garak blandly replied. “Have you considered finding a Cardassian with medical experience who will work with you? 

“That would be wonderful, but there isn’t an abundance of Cardassians hanging around the station.” Julian pointed out.

“Clearly not. But despite my exiled state, I do know people. I might be able to help.”

“Oh.” Julian said, his expression sheepish.

“Oh, indeed.”

 * * *

Later that night Iliana lay in bed, restless thoughts barring sleep. She was both physically and mentally exhausted – the past few days felt as if they had lasted months. However, sleep remained elusive. She didn’t know exactly what she had expected when she bought the shuttle tickets earlier in the day, but it wasn’t this. Everyone was far more helpful and forgiving than she had any right to expect. Though, there was a clear history there beginning with Major Kira’s experiences several years prior. It only added to the oddness of the situation. It was as if she were in the middle of a theatrical performance and had wandered onto the stage late and missing half the story.

Rell’s sister also weighed on her heavily. Kia would be crushed when she found out her sister was dead, and the woman she thought was her only surviving close relative an imposter. When she initially agreed to take on Rell’s persona, she hadn’t given the Bajoran’s family a single thought. The primary concern was putting a halt to the terrorist activity, and besides, it wasn’t intended that she live as Rell for years after the Occupation ended. It would be all too easy to feel angry at the Order who had left her on Bajor, but she had known the assignment was a dangerous one. The potential for something to go wrong had always been there. She took the assignment with her eyes wide open, despite what her father may have believed at the time.

She sighed. At least she would have her appearance back. A comforting thought, to be sure. Walking around looking like Rell only served to hammer home how badly things had gotten messed up. No matter how compassionate Doctor Bashir might be, his Bajoran medics were clearly uncomfortable. Iliana couldn’t blame them, and their reaction was far more in line with what she had expected when stepping onto the docking bay, but they underscored the necessity of getting at least this much taken care of as soon as possible.

She closed here eyes and finally fell asleep. When she woke the next morning, she couldn’t remember any of her dreams.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is thrilled -- he can't help himself because Exciting Medical Stuff!


	4. First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian seeks advice on Iliana's surgical procedure, Kira seeks more information on the real Joma Rell, and Iliana begins trying to untangle her conflicted feelings.

“That is a complicated procedure, Doctor Bashir.” The female Cardassian said from the com screen. If her face seemed soft and pleasant, her eyes definitely held a guarded expression. Julian hoped she would be able to help – even if it were only to add to the store of Cardassian medical information and advise from afar, but Doctor Lemur didn’t seem enthusiastic about committing herself to the project.

“Yes, it’s very doable, I’m certain, but unfortunately, our knowledge of Cardassian physiology is limited.

She nodded. “Yes it can certainly be done, it has been done plenty of times before.” She sighed. “I’m afraid the poor woman is at a disadvantage being situated where she is.”

“But with your help – or perhaps one of your colleagues if you yourself don’t want to take this on could fill in many of our gaps.” Julian wasn’t about to suggest sending Iliana back to Cardassian space. He worried that her father’s political status could create problems, and while there was no longer an Obsidian Order, still… if she were to go back home, it should be of her own volition when she was well enough to fully take care of herself, not as a medical patient. However, Julian wasn’t about to say that to Lemur. “It’s not the safest time to travel, you understand.”

She seemed to think for a minute and nodded. _This is worse than trying to squeeze information out of Garak. What is she worried about?_ _No, that’s a stupid question. Relations between the Federation and Cardassian Union have always been rocky at best. She may be worried about getting herself into trouble if it’s found out she’s helping me. On the other hand, there is a peace treaty between Cardassia and Bajor, and this is a Bajoran station. Come on, just agree to help, already._ He tried hard not to fidget under the Doctor’s dispassionate gaze.

“I must admit, it’s been a long time since I’ve been asked to be involved in something so extensive, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t peak my interest. There is also less danger in getting involved in something like this than there used to be, since your patient is no longer connected to the Order. I need to check with my supervisor, but if I have the go ahead, I’ll send you some files that I think you’ll find most helpful. Also, I do believe you’re on the right track with the tissue samples.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate this.” Julian said, feeling a wash of relief. It appeared that professional curiosity was winning out over her reticence.

She nodded curtly, but then softened slightly. “I’d like to see the poor girl get proper treatment. She shouldn’t go through the rest of her life looking like someone else.”  The doctor had been polite enough to leave out ‘Bajoran,’ though Julian could practically hear the thought. That was ok, the important thing was getting the help he needed to deal with this properly. He could handle a slightly prickly medical professional if he had to.

“I look forward to hearing from you.” He said, and the doctor nodded again before he found himself once again staring at a blank screen.

 * * *

“I’m just going to take a small tissue sample.” Julian explained. “Luckily what we need is locked into your DNA – that was never changed, of course, and it’s a matter of growing some of the underlying structure, so that your ridges will be yours and have proper nerve response. This way they’ll also be no chance of rejection.”

“That makes sense.” Iliana replied, both nervous about undergoing more medical procedures and relieved that he seemed confident about it.

“I was able to get in touch with a Cardassian doctor who’s sending over some files later today that should help fill in the gaps of our medical information here.” He added.

“Ah, Julian, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” A voice said from behind the Doctor who let out an exasperated sigh. Iliana leaned to the side to peer around the Human only to see another Cardassian. Middle aged by her best estimate, and impeccably dressed.

“I believe you might be needing this?” He held out a PADD, both eye ridges raised. “My dear, you really must stop misplacing things.”

“Yes, thank you Garak.” Bashir replied as he took the PADD from the Cardassian’s outstretched hand. He paused for a moment, and then with the air of someone being rather put upon he said, “Iliana, this is Garak, Garak, Iliana who only looks Bajoran.”

“Pleased to meet you my dear.” He inclined his head politely.

“I didn’t know there were still Cardassians on this station.” She said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

“Up until now, I’ve been the only one. It’s nice to make the acquaintance of another.”

“Garak, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” Julian asked, his voice firm, but a hint of humor creeping into his expression.

“Why, I’m heading over to my shop now. Are we still meeting for lunch?”

“Yes, of course.” Julian’s tone softened before becoming brisk again. “Now go on, I’m sure the station is simply dying for non replicated clothing, and I need to get on with things here.”

Garak smiled affably at the both of them. “Pleased to make your acquaintance Iliana, see you later Julian.”

“Losing things…” the Doctor grumbled. “More like leaving them where you can get at them.”

Iliana attempted to hide an amused smile behind her hand. If the interruption did one thing, it certainly helped relieve the tension that had been steadily knotting her shoulders. _If there is another Cardassian on the station who hasn’t been lynched by angry Bajorans, then I suppose I am safe here too._ She tried her best not to notice that the Bajoran medics where not comfortable around her. They behaved in a completely professional manner, but she could tell by their body language and clipped answers that her presence wasn’t entirely welcome. Granted, she would’ve been surprised had the opposite been true.

She lay back on the biobed and allowed Doctor Bashir and the medics do their job, which was overall quite painless, since she had been given a numbing agent. _I’ll have my old face back soon. I hope Kira can find father… and I still don’t know what to do about Kia and the rest._ She felt a knot begin to form in the pit of her stomach. Medical procedures she could handle, after all, she had been through this before, but dealing with the fall out from her actual identity becoming known was something else entirely. Upon accepting the assignment, she had been prepared to face certain death if she were discovered by the cell she had infiltrated. That in some ways seemed preferable to dealing with Rell’s sister.

 * * *

“Garak, a moment please?” Kira asked as she walked into the shop, barely noticing the riot of color and texture around her. She was too busy wishing she were anywhere else.

“Ah, Major, what can I do for you? A new dress perhaps?” The Cardassian was wearing his best customer service smile and everything about his body language and expression read ‘harmless.’ Of course, Kira saw through it all. The ‘tailor’ was most certainly _not_ harmless.

“Not today. I need some information.”

Garak’s eyes flickered to the door. The shop was empty. “And what information would that be? I hope Odo isn’t accusing me of anything. I know how badly he wishes I was the spy he thinks I am. Alas, the reality is far less interesting.”

Kira clenched her jaw and counted to ten. She was not in the mood for Garak’s typical evasive behavior. “I don’t have time for this today. I’m looking for information on a Bajoran resistance fighter named Joma Rell. She originally came from Musilla Province. I need to know what happened to her.”

“Oh? And you think I have this information. I’m sorry, but I don’t keep tabs on random Bajorans. Perhaps your own government?” He suggested, his voice light but expression interested.

“I’m fairly certain she’s dead. I’m just trying to find out the details so I can pass them on to her remaining family.” Kira explained.

Hmmm… I take it this has something to do with the young Cardassian woman Julian is attempting to put to rights.” It was a statement, not a question. “You don’t need me to tell you Joma Rell’s fate. She would have been taken prisoner and eventually executed. Your own little stint as a Cardassian should have told you that.”

Kira bit back a surge of dislike. It was funny, she thought, that for all Iliana Ghemor had done, not to mention the pain she was about to inflict on Rell’s surviving friends and relations, Kira didn’t find herself particularly angry with her. Perhaps it was because she liked her father and knew how long he had been searching for his daughter, or perhaps Iliana’s obvious concern for Rell’s sister had served to soften Kira towards her. Or maybe it was her own brief experience waking up and thinking she wasn’t who she thought she was that allowed her to feel sympathy. Actually, she found the ex-Obsidian Order agent standing in front of her to be far harder to take.

_Julian has his faults, but he’s a very decent person. What can he possibly see in him?_ She wondered for what had to be the thousandth time. Granted the obvious answer would be that there were aspects of Garak’s personality that only Julian was privy to. However strong the likelihood of that being true, Kira didn’t find the thought particularly satisfying.

“And that’s all I have to tell Rell’s sister.” Kira grimaced.

“That’s the truth isn’t it?” Garak replied. “It’s better than giving her false hope that her sister is still alive somewhere. If you feel you need the details that badly, I might be able to find out, but it will take time, and to be honest…I can’t promise you anything. As a simple tailor, I don’t have easy access to sensitive information.”

Kira rolled her eyes. “Save the ‘simple tailor’ line for someone more gullible. Never mind, you’re right – either way she’s been dead for years.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Are you sure I can’t interest you in a new blouse?”

A disgusted noise answered that question as Kira turned on her heel and stormed out.

 * * *

Iliana sat nursing a cup of tea. Since leaving Bajor and now having begun the process necessary to get at least some of her previous life back, she found that she had time to actually think. She wasn’t sure this was an entirely good thing. She was still remembering things, her memory like a puzzle she had to put together as well as find a few missing pieces. At the same time, being host to Rell’s life experiences was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She had taken the first steps that had brought her to this point out of a genuine need to do good by her people, and she didn’t regret those feelings. However, she couldn’t erase what she had learned while living as a Bajoran, and there was no doubt that things hadn’t been entirely as they seemed.

Attempting to protect her people was a fine goal, but she couldn’t approve of the excesses Cardassia carried out on Bajor, either. It had been grossly unfair to the Bajorans, and only destabilized the situation on the planet by giving the Bajoran people plenty to rally against. _Stupid stupid stupid. How could so many people be so damned blind!_ It was one thing for the people back home to not know all that went on, quite another for the people that were actually there to carry on in that way.

The problem was, she didn’t know where that left her. He father was now a political dissident and an exile. She could understand why, but she wasn’t sure she could live that way. She was Cardassian, and the feelings of duty and loyalty that had caused her to join the Order to begin with were still there. They were a part of who she was, even if she didn’t agree so whole-heartedly with the powers that be. She couldn’t just pick up where she had left off. That was completely impossible, and perhaps not so desirable anymore. No, definitely not desirable, but she had to do _something_ with her life.

Iliana knew she was getting ahead of herself, and that she should deal with one thing at a time. Her surgery and the mess she had left behind on Bajor had to take priority. Then reuniting with her father, then worrying about the rest. She carefully glanced around the replimat. More than one person was looking at her – some with curiosity, others with hostility. She could’ve avoided this particular scenario by staying in her room, but that was a rather dreary thought. Her gaze flicked over to a trio of Starfleet officers having lunch, and then to Doctor Bashir and the Cardassian she had met that morning having what looked to be a spirited conversation. They were getting the other half of the strange looks. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one.

“Iliana,” a voice from behind her made her start.

“Sorry.” Kira apologized as she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we’ve contacted the Mathenite government and they’re going to make sure your father gets the good news.” She smiled then, though it was slightly troubled. “Also, there’s the matter of Joma Rell’s sister. If you’ll come with me, we can speak with her now.” The Bajoran paused. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Will it make matters worse if I do?” Iliana asked. “I feel like this is my responsibility, since I caused the situation – or at least played a major part in it. However, if you think it will make it worse for Kia…”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it will make things any worse, but I can’t see it being any better either. Well,” she amended, “I can’t see it helping right now, but perhaps in the long run it will give her more closure. I just don’t know.”

Iliana thought for a moment. “Well, as someone who does know Kia, I think it would be better if I was there, so she doesn’t feel like I just ran away and left her to sort it all out. She won’t appreciate it at all – not that I blame her one bit, but I think in the long run it may be a little kinder this way.”

Kira nodded. “Alright, come with me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems that giving Iliana her Cardassian appearance back would be more difficult than initially taking it away. Even with 24th Century medical technology I can't imagine it being just 'Zap' you're all better! Or maybe it's partly that I see their particular physiology as being more than simply ornamental.


End file.
